Bellissima
by lizandletdie
Summary: Cyril Gold suffers from a condition that leaves his skin thickened and scaly, but he's satisfied with his life until he meets the new librarian...and she meets the new fire chief. She wants a man who looks like one but talks like the other, but soon enough it all comes crashing down. AU based on the movie Roxanne which is an AU of the play Cyrano de Bergerac.
1. Chapter 1

Cyril Gold stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. He walked in front of the floor length mirror and examined his skin as he opened the jar of skin cream kept on the counter and started smoothing it over himself, careful to make sure he paid extra attention to the itchy, scaly skin that clustered around his neck and joints. His lamellar ichthyosis, fortunately, avoided his face almost entirely for most of his life but he still carefully coated it in the thick cream as he prepared for the day.

The jelly-like lotion still felt sticky and claustrophobic on his skin, but he was used to it by now and he didn't really have any choice about it unless he wanted to look even worse by the end of the day. Over the cream went an undershirt with the longest sleeves he could find and then a dress shirt, waistcoat, and suit leaving only the scales on his hands and neck visible. The more layers he had between his skin and the world, the stronger he felt. It was all part of a routine now – he'd done some variation of this process twice a day every single day of his life.

Once he was dressed, he took up his cane and headed out the door. He had a new tenant to meet that day, and the weather was nice so he was in a fairly good mood as he made his way downtown. Storybrooke was a small town, but the tourism business did fairly well in the summer due to the seaside so this time of year there was always a brief influx of budget to infrastructure so Cyril had papers to sign for the new fire chief today and a new librarian who he hadn't met yet, although she was probably moved in by now. She'd done all her paperwork long distance since she was coming from out of state, but her check had cleared and her background check was clean so he'd left a key for her with the building's superintendent and called it a day. He'd have to go check on her at some point this week to make sure everything was okay, but that could wait for another day.

He wasn't self-conscious as he entered the diner. Everyone here knew him, and it wasn't as though he could have kept the scales that lined his body secret even if he'd wanted to.

"Hey, Mr. Gold," Ruby Lucas said cheerfully from behind the counter. "What can I get you today?"

"Just a coffee, thanks."

Cyril wasn't sure why Mrs. Lucas had made the waitress uniforms quite so short when her own granddaughter worked there, but then again it probably helped with tips from the single men who frequented the diner. A few of them were admiring Ruby's skills at the coffee pot from the bar, and when she turned around to ring him up there was a clattering of silverware on dishes as they all went back to eating their breakfasts at the same time.

He paid and left just in time to see two strangers on their way into the diner. He felt his shoulders tense at the sight of the two men and self-consciously tugged on his sleeves. Strangers weren't uncommon in Storybrooke this time of year, but he'd never quite outgrown that sense of nervousness when he encountered them. Cyril consciously held his head up as he walked past the men, but he could feel their eyes on him anyway.

"Christ," he heard one of the men whisper to the other as he passed. "Did you see the lizard?"

Cyril turned to see the pair staring at him openly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, waiting to see if the two would own the comment or not before he decided how to proceed.

"Nothing," the taller and darker of the two said, tapping his friend's arm. He hadn't been the first to comment. "Nice tie."

Cyril nodded and turned to walk away, but he heard the second man speak again behind him.

"He looks like a fucking crocodile."

And there it was. If there was one thing that Cyril didn't tolerate anymore, it was people speaking about him that way. He'd learned as a child the consequences of not standing up for yourself, so he turned again to face the strangers who hadn't stopped looking at him.

"Is there a problem?" Cyril asked, knowing good and well that there was about to be a problem regardless of their answer.

"Nah, mate," the first man said. "We're just messing around, don't worry about it."

Cyril held the stranger's eye for a long moment before smiling and relaxing his posture.

"I'm just kidding," Cyril said, stepping forward and juggling the coffee into his left hand and balancing it on the head of the cane so he could offer his his right for a handshake. Both men shook it awkwardly. They were laughing at his 'joke' and apparently buying that he honestly didn't care. "You're both very funny," Cyril continued. "Crocodile. That's quite clever."

"Thanks," the second man said, before realizing that Cyril hadn't let go of his hand yet. He was now looking at Cyril nervously.

"Do you know what's interesting about crocodiles?" Cyril asked, still not releasing the stranger. "They kill by holding their prey immobilized."

The man didn't have time to flinch before Cyril slammed the point of his cane into the stranger's foot and ground it down hard.

"What the hell?" the stranger shouted, yanking his hand away and collapsing. "What's wrong with you?"

"Have a nice day," Cyril said with a sharklike smile as he turned and walked off towards the pawn shop where he spent his days.

He still had paperwork to sign later for the new tenant, but he had until the afternoon to settle his nerves. People were just terrible.

Belle French was in the shower when she heard the alarm go off. It took her a minute to recognize that it was the fire alarm, since she was new in the building and she'd never heard the fire alarm go off at her old place. She cursed under her breath a she turned off the water and grabbed a towel just in time to hear someone banging on her door.

"Just a minute!" she called out, wrapping the towel around herself. She had so much going on between the alarm and the knock on the door and the nudity that she froze and couldn't decide what to deal with first. The knocking at the door turned into a loud banging and she dashed through the living room to answer whoever was there.

Belle popped the door partially open to see her building superintendent on the other side.

"Fire alarm," he said. "Everyone needs to come downstairs."

"Okay, just let me get dressed and I'll be right down."

"Sorry, fire marshal rules," he replied. "We don't know what's going on, and you have to come right now."

"It'll only take a minute."

"It's not safe," he continued. "Look, I have to go check on everybody else on this floor and you're slowing me down."

She cast one quick glance helplessly back at her apartment before nodding and stepping out into the hallway. The super pulled the door behind her and Belle held the towel tight around her chest before heading down to join her neighbors in the street.

Cyril had pretty much calmed down within an hour of opening the pawn shop. He'd met a fair few assholes in his day, and if he was going to let any of them bother him for too long he'd never get anything else done. So, as a result, he was midway through doing the books in the back room when the little bell on his door that announced customers rang out. He marked his place quickly and made his way into the front to see a woman standing there naked in nothing but a towel. He wanted to ask if she needed help, but he was having trouble remembering how to make words work.

"Are you Mr. Gold?" she asked as soon as she saw him, clutching the towel tight as she halfway hid behind an armoire. He finally managed to nod, and he saw her shoulders sag in relief. "You're my landlord," she continued. "And I got locked out of my apartment."

"Oh...dare I ask?"

"Someone pulled the fire alarm when I was in the shower," she said. "The super made me come down and I obviously forgot my key."

He didn't recognize the woman, which was odd because he knew all the tenants in his buildings save one.

"Ah, you must be Bellissima French," he said, going to the wall safe where he kept his master keys. "I'd been meaning to come check on you soon."

"Please don't call me that," she said quickly. "I go by 'Belle.'"

"My apologies. I should have asked first."

He pocketed the keys and came around the counter to flip the sign to closed and lock the front door.

"It's fine," she replied. "I just really have no idea what my parents were thinking."

"It will be our secret, then." He gestured towards the back room and she recoiled. "There's a backdoor to an alley that goes behind your building," he said. "We can go back out the front if you'd like."

She smiled at him and looked so relieved as she walked to the back room and let him lead her through the back into the alley. Belle was picking her way carefully through the pavement and he realized for the first time she was barefoot and he probably should have thought about that before he invited her into the alley.

"Are you alright?" he asked, watching her carefully sidestep a puddle a few feet from the door to the service entrance of the building she lived in.

"I'm going to be really happy to get inside," she replied easily, turning her eyes back towards him and smiling. She had incredibly blue eyes. He hadn't really noticed it before, but they were close enough now that he could reach out and touch her if he'd wanted to.

He suddenly felt self-conscious and looked away, just in time to hear her yelp out a curse. Cyril turned to see her leaning against the wall and holding her right foot up off the ground.

"I stepped on something," she whimpered before he could even ask. "I don't wanna look at it."

"Here, let me," he said, dropping down on his good knee and taking her ankle in his hand. He guided her foot to rest in one palm while he brushed the debris off her foot. Whatever she'd stepped on was gone now, but there was a decent sized cut on her heel that was bleeding fairly heavily. He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it against it. "The good news is I'm pretty sure you'll live."

She giggled a little but was definitely in pain, so he tied the handkerchief around her foot as well as he could before he stood up and offered her his arm so she could lean on him as they both limped their way to her apartment.

Belle didn't think she'd ever been happier to bring a stranger into her home in her life than when her landlord finally let her in and helped her into the living room. She heard him doing something as she made her way into her bedroom and found a pair of legging and a tank top.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" she heard him call out while she was putting on her bra.

"In the medicine cabinet," she called through the closed door, and when she emerged it wasn't too surprising to see him still there with the first aid kit open on the table and a bowl of warm water next to it.

"I hope I'm not being too forward," he said as she took in the tableau. "I thought you could use some help."

"I appreciate it. I'm not really good with blood."

"Well then we have something in common."

He said it with a cheeky grin that let her know he was teasing and she couldn't help but to smile at him. He had a weird sense of humor, but she liked it. It made her feel easy with him as she sat down in one of the chairs.

She watched as he took his jacket off and started to roll up his sleeves a little. She could see him watching her out of the corner of his eye as he revealed more of the scaly skin that she'd had glimpses of earlier. She made a concerted effort not to stare, but the easiness of the conversation evaporated as he sat down and pulled her foot into his lap.

"Thank you for all your help," she said while he untied the cloth from her foot. "I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"Don't mention it. I'd hate to lose your business to the local jail, after all."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure getting put on the sex offender registry would probably lose me my job if nothing else."

He smiled at her, but was fairly engrossed with her foot by now. He'd been carefully washing the dirt off her foot, but now he seemed to be trying to make sure there wasn't any inside the cut itself and Belle had to look up at the ceiling and pretend to be someplace else until she felt the adhesive bandage on her heel.

"There you go," he said as she lowered her foot back down. "Good as new."

"Thanks again, Mr. Gold."

"Cyril."

"Well, then thank you Cyril."

"It was my pleasure," he replied, putting his shirt back to rights and taking up his coat. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't. And I'll be sure to keep you in mind next time I get stuck outside naked."

"I'd be disappointed if you don't," he said. "It was lovely to meet you, Belle."

"You too."


	2. Chapter 2

Belle was trying really hard to meet new people. She'd made the mistake in her last town of waiting for other people to notice her, and after three years she had realized that nobody would miss her if she left. That was the day she'd started looking for a new job in a new town, and then she'd ended up here. She was going to make friends, or she was going to die trying.

So, when the waitress Ruby had told Belle that The Rabbit Hole was a popular after work destination she'd made a point to make it to happy hour the following Wednesday. She'd been a little nervous until Ruby had appeared out of nowhere and greeted Belle like an old friend.

It turned out to be a good thing that Ruby was there, because Belle had definitely not been prepared for the reality of being the new girl in a small town. The men in the bar were hovering awkwardly, and if she'd been alone it wouldn't have been nearly as funny (and probably more than a little off-putting).

"Excuse me," Belle heard from over her shoulder right as a tall stranger leaned onto the bar next to her. "You look familiar."

Belle was trying to figure out how she could possibly know this man when she heard Ruby speak beside her.

"Keith…" Ruby said with a warning tone to her voice.

"No, I'm serious!" he replied. "You look _really_ familiar."

"I don't know," Belle said. "I just moved to town this week."

He hmmed like he was thinking before he suddenly snapped and pointed at her.

"I've got it!" he said. "Have you done porn?"

Belle almost couldn't believe he'd actually said that and she actually started laughing more out of shock than anything else. It was definitely the worst pick up line she thought she'd ever heard. He was looking pleased with himself, apparently not realizing she was laughing _at_ him and somehow that just made it even funnier.

"So…" he said in a low voice, leaning in a little. "Can I get your number?"

"Oh my God," she forced out, wiping tears from her eyes. "No, sorry."

He seemed flustered, but now Ruby was giggling, too, and that set Belle off again so he seemed to decide it was time to get out while he still had some dignity left.

"That was so bad," Belle said to Ruby once she had herself more or less under control. "Is he alway like that?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Ruby replied. "But that was _really_ bad, even by his standards."

They both drank in silence for a few moments and Belle was mostly past her giggles when Ruby finally spoke again.

"We need to get you a decent date," she said authoritatively, sitting up and looking around. "Do you like guys or girls or what?"

"Guys," Belle replied. "Although I appreciate the open-mindedness."

Ruby was scanning the bar over Belle's head, and not for the first time Belle wished she was just a little bit taller when the other woman gasped and Belle turned to see what she'd seen. There was a guy at the bar looking at the two of them with a shy look on his face. He was pretty attractive – and tall – and Belle was sure that this town wasn't going to offer up anything much better than him.

"I think he could work," Belle said to Ruby.

"Yeah," Ruby replied a little dreamily. "I mean...I don't actually know him. But yeah, he's pretty good looking."

Belle smiled at the stranger invitingly, hoping he'd take the hint and come over to them but instead he just turned abruptly and hurried away. How disappointing. Belle pouted and turned back to Ruby just in time to see Cyril on the other side of the room talking to the bartender. She was so excited to see the second person she knew in town that she could barely stand it.

He seemed to notice her not long after she'd noticed him, and when the bartender walked away from him he came over and joined Belle and Ruby where they sat.

"Hello, Belle, Ruby," he said as he looked between the two. "How are you?"

"I'm doing great," Belle said, kicking her injured foot up and holding it so he could see that she'd gotten into a pair of heels without much incident. "Thanks again for all your help earlier."

"Don't mention it, it was my pleasure."

"This sounds like a fun story," Ruby said with a wolfish smile. "So what happened?"

"It's a long story," Belle replied at the same time that Cyril said _it's nothing_ , but Ruby wasn't willing to let it go.

"No secrets!" she exclaimed. "At least, not yet. You _just_ got here!"

"I got locked out of my apartment a couple days ago and had to get some help to get back in," Belle said, carefully avoiding the part where she'd been naked at the time. "Cyril was nice enough to let me back in and patch up my foot after I stepped on some broken glass or something in the street."

"How sweet!" Ruby said, looking towards Cyril. "I didn't know you had it in you, Mr. Gold."

He looked like he might blush, but right at that moment the bartender returned and offered him an envelope which he accepted and tucked into the inner pocket of his coat.

"It's been nice seeing you ladies," Cyril said once the bartender had left. "You have a lovely evening."

Belle was a little disappointed that he couldn't hang out anymore, but they would definitely see each other again at some point so she shook off the strange mood and went back to her new friend and her drink.

Cyril hadn't expected to run into Belle French at The Rabbit Hole while collecting rent, but it had been a nice surprise. He wasn't used to seeing a friendly face while he was collecting rent, and he had been meaning to check on her after he'd bandaged her foot up. He'd been worried about her, and now he knew she was okay. So there was no reason to go see her again, which he found just a little bit more disappointing than he wanted to think about.

He was so absorbed in thought that he didn't notice that Keith Something-or-another was on a beeline to slam into him. Cyril was able to pivot enough that the taller man bumped into his shoulder rather than straight into him, but there was still a collision.

"Watch it, Scales," Keith said before Cyril could even come up with his own response, and then turned and tried to walk away.

Cyril bristled and before he could think the better of it, he reached out and grabbed the other man's arm.

"Is that it?" Cyril asked as soon as Keith looked back at him. "The best you could come up with was _scales_?"

The bar had gotten quiet as soon as Cyril grabbed Keith's arm, but now you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was watching to see what would happen and Cyril was absolutely not going to back down.

"Whatever, man," Keith replied. "I don't have time for this."

"It just seems like you could have done better," Cyril continued, stepping back and relaxing his posture as much as possible. "You see a man who looks like, well, me and that was the very best you could do?"

"Oh like you're so damn clever?"

"I'm definitely more clever than that."

"Prove it."

"Let's start small," Cyril replied, rolling his eyes and trying to figure out where to start. "You could have gone cinematic: _I'm sorry, sir, the audition for Swamp Thing is next weekend._ " There was a nervous giggle that went through the room and which gave him some courage. " _Oh, so this is what would have happened if_ Crocodile Dundee _slept with the crocodile!_ " He continued, drawing another laugh. "You could have been vulgar, _I've never met a man who was ribbed for her pleasure!_ or cultured _Oh my God I loved your performance in Phantom of the Opera._ Literary: _Have you caught Captain Hook yet?_ "

There was a smattering of applause when he paused and he took a deep breath before beginning again. Keith was looking around in annoyance which just egged Cyril on further.

"There's also complimentary," he said. " _I absolutely loved you in Fantasia!_ or frugal, _you must save a fortune on the dentist because those little birds do such a good job cleaning your teeth._ Or even herpetological: _excuse me, sir, will you be needing a heat lamp?_ " He stepped forward into the taller man's space for this last little twist of the knife. "All those ideas and you went with _scaly?_ "

Everyone was laughing and applauding now, and Cyril knew that he'd won.

"You need to back off," Keith said darkly.

"Or what?" Cyril asked, refusing to back down to this man. Keith took a swing, but Cyril had been expecting it and dodged just in time for the fist to whizz past his ear. It was precisely the move he'd been hoping for, and it was a matter of seconds to slam his cane into Keith's solar plexus. Keith doubled over immediately and Cyril shoved him over to a deafening round of applause from the rest of the bar.

He felt like he could conquer the world as he walked out the door and into the street.

Cyril had a breakfast meeting with Regina Mills the next morning, and by the time he got to the diner she was already waiting for him.

"Good morning, Cyril," she said with a knowing smile as soon as he sat down. "I heard _you_ had some fun yesterday."

"And what would that be?" he asked.

"Don't be modest," she replied. "Apparently you made quite a scene at The Rabbit Hole. It's all anyone is talking about this morning."

"I'd hardly call it a scene," he said. "It was more of a disagreement."

"It was a scene," Ruby the waitress said. Cyril hadn't even noticed she was cleaning up the table next to theirs, but she didn't seem at all embarrassed about having been eavesdropping.

"See?" Regina said. "It was a scene. Ruby agrees."

"You should have seen it," Ruby said to Regina. "Belle – you know, the new librarian? – she couldn't talk about anything else all night. It was absolutely nuts."

Regina's smile had a knowing quality to it when she turned back to face Cyril.

"You hear that?" she said to him. " _Belle_ couldn't talk about anything else. Ruby, would you say that it sounds like Belle has a little bit of a crush on someone?"

"I dunno," Ruby replied, picking up the stack of dishes that she'd been clearing off the table. "Could be?"

He could feel himself starting to blush and he knew that had been Regina's purpose in pushing the issue, but it did give him a lot to think about. Belle was very sweet, and he was sure she had flirted at least a little bit the night before (although she'd also been drinking). His imagination was running away with him and try as he might he could not make himself stop believing it.

Cyril was polishing a silver candelabra in the pawn shop when Belle suddenly appeared again. She was wearing a sweater and a short skirt and smiling brilliantly.

"Hey," he said as soon as he saw her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have a little favor I need to ask you," she said, leaning against the counter coyly.

"Do you?" He was trying really hard not to notice how pretty she was, but that was a losing battle. She was so beautiful and ever since this morning he'd been running Regina's teasing through his head over and over again. Belle definitely didn't like him – but what if she did?

"This is so embarrassing," she replied. "But I have a little bit of a crush on somebody and I need your help."

"Really? Do tell."

"Well, I know I've only been in town a little while, but there's this guy I saw yesterday and I think I'd like to get to know him better."

He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at her words. Had he been _that_ different? Was she even talking about him? He was almost definitely overreacting, but it felt a little bit like he was floating above himself and watching the whole conversation as a spectator.

"Where did you see him?" he asked.

"At the bar," she replied and he felt like he was soaring. "We didn't get a chance to talk, but I think he liked me, too, and I was hoping you could help me set up a date."

Suddenly, everything was crashing down around him. It wasn't him. She didn't like _him_ , it was some other man from the bar. Cyril felt like he'd been punched in the stomach and it took all his willpower to keep it off of his face.

"And how can I help?" he asked once he was sure that he wouldn't vomit feelings at her if he spoke.

"I've been asking around, and he lives in one of your buildings. He's the new fire chief, Christopher Gaston."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So I don't usually do these, but here we are. So this fic is loosely based on the play _Cyrano de Bergerac_ , which most people know as "the guy with the big nose who tells the other guy what to say to get that girl to like him." So, there are four chapters left after this one and Belle and Gaston do date for most of them. If that's a problem for you, then you have now been warned. I wouldn't change what happens if I could, and I can't because this is a commission fic. Thanks to everyone who's enjoyed it so far, we are almost halfway done!

* * *

Chris Gaston was tall with dark hair, a broad chest, and a pleasantly dim personality – Cyril was pretty sure he was going to end up hating him. The new fire chief was just far too likeable, and Cyril seriously needed to get better at saying _no_ to Bellissima French because he was knocking on the man's door to deliver her message after only having met him twice before.

"Oh hey Mr. Gold," Chris said as soon as he opened the door. "What can I do for you? Is there a problem with the lease or something?"

"No no, nothing like that," he replied. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Chris had done a decent job of getting himself settled into the apartment since Cyril had seen it last, but there were still boxes sitting unopened in most of the free spaces of the room.

"So…" Chris said, looking around awkwardly. Right, Cyril still had to ask him out for Belle. This was going to be ridiculous.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Cyril asked, and Chris' eyes almost bugged out of his head. "That came out completely wrong," Cyril continued before Chris could say anything to make this even more awkward. "I had a young lady ask me if I could get your phone number for her because she'd like to get to know you better."

"Oh!" Chris said, visibly relaxing. "Who is it?"

"Belle French, the librarian. Apparently, you saw her last night at the bar and didn't say anything."

Chris had a pensive look on his face, so Cyril decided to continue.

"Brown hair? Blue eyes? An accent you wouldn't soon forget…"

"Was she the tall one or the short one?"

That's right, she'd been with Ruby.

"Ah, the short one."

"She _was_ really pretty," Chris said a little bashfully. "They both were."

"So can I tell her you'll meet her for coffee?"

"Oh God, no!" Chris replied with wide, terrified eyes. "No, please no."

"Why not?" Cyril asked. He could not imagine a universe in which you wouldn't agree to at least try dating Belle French, and even though Chris Gaston could probably do a lot better with women than he could, it still didn't make a lot of sense.

"I'm not good with girls," Chris said miserably, collapsing into a chair. "I can't talk to them! I get all nervous and sweaty and then I throw up…"

That news shouldn't make Cyril feel so smug, but Chris Gaston had looks that could make girls track him down, so the fact that apparently Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome couldn't handle talking to the women made him feel a little better about his own deficiencies.

"That could be a problem," Cyril replied, looking around the room again. "Haven't you dated before?"

"Yeah, but I'm okay once I get to know them. Do you think she'd be willing to get drinks instead of coffee? I'm a lot funnier to drunk girls."

"Probably not," Cyril said even though he had no damn idea what Belle would be willing to do. The idea of the two of them drinking and then leaving the bar together was a bridge too far and he wasn't going to facilitate it. "She's a very intelligent woman," he continued, trying to twist the knife just a bit. "And very well read."

Chris groaned unhappily and covered his face with his hands. Cyril was thrilled – he'd been a good friend and brought it to Chris Gaston, and Belle had been turned down. So now everything could go back to normal and –

"Can _you_ talk to her?" Chris asked. "I mean, you're her friend, right? Can you explain that I'm just really bad at this kind of thing?"

"Don't you think you should do that yourself?"

"But _she_ sent _you_ to talk to me."

Damn.

"Do you like her?" Cyril asked instead.

"I don't know her," Chris replied. "I mean, she's real pretty but...I don't know. This is all really weird."

"So you _want_ to get to know her," Cyril said.

"Yeah. But I don't want to throw up on her, either."

"Why don't you try writing her?" Cyril replied. He had to get himself out of this situation by any means necessary, because there was absolutely no way in hell he'd survive relaying messages between these two. "Or would you end up vomiting on the letter?"

"Write her...yeah, that's not a bad idea!" Chris said eagerly. "A letter. I can do a letter. Can you help me write a letter?"

"I don't think that's…"

"Just look it over," Chris continued. "All I need is somebody to proofread it and make sure I don't say anything stupid, you know? Please, Mr. Gold! I would owe you so much!"

Cyril was really going to regret this.

"So he wants to write me a letter?" Belle asked Cyril. He'd come to visit her in the library to tell her about his conversation with Chris Gaston, and she was so excited. "That's really old fashioned, isn't it?"

"In a bad way?" he replied and she thought about it for a few seconds before answering.

"No, not in a bad way. I just can't remember the last time I got a love letter. Maybe in high school?"

"Well, maybe it's time that you had one?"

She thought about that and smiled. It _was_ desperately romantic, wasn't it? It was something that could come out of one of her books. The more she thought about it, the more thrilling it was.

"You're right," she said. "I _do_ deserve a love letter!"

He smiled at her in response. He had a ridiculously nice smile, and she wondered if he knew it. He had to, surely somebody had told him before. She just hadn't really noticed it before now, is all.

"Let me buy you a coffee," she said. "I have lunch in like, twenty minutes and I owe you for being such a good friend."

"You don't have to," he replied. "It's been no trouble at all."

"No, really. I'd really like to. I know I just moved here, but you've been such a good friend so far. It'll be fun!"

"Okay," he said. "Sure. Coffee sounds great."

She was so relieved. She had a friend she had a guy sending her a love letter, and things were really starting to look up for her.

Cyril had invited Chris Gaston over for dinner and proofreading of the letter. His place was much nicer than the one Chris rented, and after Belle had been so excited about the letter he couldn't bear to let her have a bad one. Something told him that the letter Chris as going to come up with would probably be a little underwhelming, so the proofreading would probably be rather intense.

"Thanks again for doing this," Chris said. "I know I'm not great with words, but I worked really hard on this and I think it really says what I was thinking."

" _Dear Belle_ ," Cyril read out loud from the page Chris had handed him. " _Hi, how are you? I'm really good. You are very sexy. I was really excited you wanted to go on a date. Do you want to get a drink sometime? Chris._ " Cyril looked over at Chris trying to decide if this was serious or not, but Chris was just looking at him like an excited puppy and Cyril had the sinking suspicion that this was honestly as good as he could do. "You cannot send this to her," Cyril said at last. "This is something you'd pass to a girl in your geometry class in the tenth grade. You can't mail this to a grown woman."

"Why not?" Chris asked. "You told me to write what I was thinking and this is what I was thinking!"

"Okay, you can't send a letter like _this,_ " Cyril said. "You have to make it more romantic. Soften some of the rough edges."

"So what would you write?"

"Well, to start off, replace _dear Belle_ with ' _my darling Belle_ ,'" Cyril said, waiting for Chris to write the new greeting down. "Then you need to talk about how you feel. What were you thinking the first time you saw her?"

"I thought she was really hot," Chris replied bashfully.

"That's easy," Cyril said. "So instead of that, you say ' _your beauty inspires me.'_ "

"That's really good," Chris replied as he wrote. "What do I write now?"

"What did you do after you saw her?"

"I uh...I ran away."

"Why?"

"I was getting really sweaty."

Cyril was beginning to wonder how he was supposed to turn this sow's ear into a silk purse. Chris Gaston was nice enough, but he was awkward and shy, and just a little dim. There wasn't anything wrong with any of it, but Cyril thought Belle probably had bigger ideas about him.

"Write ' _your presence overwhelms me, and I find myself drowning in you._ '"

"Wow," Chris said as he wrote the last words. "You should write this letter."

"No, I can't do that," Cyril replied. "Your letter was fine."

"But this is so much better. Please, you've got to help me out."

He shouldn't do this. It was pitiful and bordering on creepy, but at the same time he had seen Belle's face when she'd said that she hadn't had a love letter since high school. She'd never accept it if he knew where it came from, but if he gave Chris this little jump start then Belle would be happy and would never, ever have to know the truth.

"Alright," Cyril said at last, snatching the paper. "You will definitely owe me a favor after this."

"Yeah, of course," Chris said. "Anything you want, just name it."

"I'll let you know," Cyril replied, already feeling words starting to build up inside of him until he couldn't even stand it anymore and he just _had_ to put his pen to the paper and write.

 _My Dearest, Belle,_ he began, slowly so he could watch the ink as it spread and settled. _Sweet Belle. The hours since our last meeting tick by like years and still I am bereft. My life seems divided now into two distinct periods – before Belle and after Belle, and I can never go back to the man I was before. Can it really only be two days since we last met?_ He crossed out the last few words, because this was from Chris and Chris and Belle had never properly met, and replaced it with _since our eyes first met in that crowded bar?_

 _I'll never know what you saw in me, what in my sinner's heart called out to you and yet you looked at me and saw worthiness. Sweet beautiful Belle, you draw me like the tides to the moon. I laid eyes on you and was speechless at your beauty and charm._

 _Please, sweetest Belle, let me know you. Let me know your heart and soul. I want to learn you like a poem, I want to know your dreams and your joys and your sorrows. I'll be dying a little each second until I receive your response, sweet, darling, Belle._

 _Yours in all ways,_

He almost signed his name but then caught himself – this was not a letter from him, it was from Chris Gaston who had retreated to the kitchen to check on dinner so Cyril could write. Still, though, Cyril couldn't quite bring himself to surrender the letter, either. Instead, he signed with an ornate _C_. It was close enough, and it was the best he could do for right now.


	4. Chapter 4

Belle found the letter in the book return when she came into work in the morning, and she just had to open it the second she sat down. The first thing she noticed was that he had impeccable penmanship – it wasn't overly frilly or messy, it was just a nice, masculine script. She loved the way he wrote almost as much as she loved the words themselves. It was like something out of an old novel, just beautiful and so romantic that she could cry. She should probably be a little weirded out by the intensity of the words, because they hadn't technically _met_ yet and she'd really only thought this would be a quick fling but it was hard to care at this point. She just wanted to meet the man who could write like that for her.

She read through the note three times in a row and once during a late morning lull before she realized he hadn't given her his phone number, so she was going to either have to rely on him to show up or else she was going to have to start stalking him. Well, continue stalking him more than she already was. This was a lot of work to go through for a summer fling, but it had been too long since she'd had a first date and even longer since she'd had a really passionate love affair and she _wanted_ one.

Since the library always had a little rush during the lunch hour, Belle didn't get to lock up for her own meal until after one. She'd only be gone a half hour, but the diner was close enough that she could to get something over there. It was actually a little bit of a surprise to see Cyril Gold sitting at the counter, but it was a really nice surprise to see a friendly face.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, and he looked up quickly from what he'd been doing. He looked a little startled by her appearance, but he seemed happy, which was a relief.

"Hey," he replied before he shook his head a little and moved his things away from her so she could join him at the counter. "Please, be my guest."

Belle hopped up onto the stool and located Ruby, who was helping another customer. That meant there were a few minutes to get her thoughts together before she ordered, and that meant a few minutes to make small talk.

"I got a letter today," she said, watching Cyril out of the corner of her eye as she spoke. He was being annoyingly unreadable, though and just took a sip of his drink and watched his plate. "It was...wow."

"Really? That good?" Cyril asked, looking at her now with a little smirk on his face. "I didn't know he had it in him."

"It was _amazing,_ " she said. "I would never have expected anything like that, but... _wow_. That's all I can think to say. It was eloquent and romantic. I read it over and over again. It was just perfect, completely perfect."

Cyril had a weird smile on his face, and she was about to ask him why when Ruby suddenly appeared, notepad in hand.

"What was perfect?" she asked before her face lit up. "Oh did something happen with that guy?"

"He sent me a letter," Belle replied. "Oh my God, Ruby, you wouldn't believe how good it is!"

"Can I see it?" Ruby asked, and Belle nodded and pulled it out of her purse to hand to the waitress. Ruby tucked it into her apron and took Belle's order before retreating to the coffee pot to read.

"You seem rather smitten with our new fire chief," Cyril said once Ruby was gone, although he didn't really look at her this time. "Could it be love?"

"I wouldn't go that far," she said, hoping she wasn't blushing too badly. "I haven't even heard him speak yet."

"But you think you could?"

She had to think about that for a minute. It was a weird question, and maybe a little too personal, but at the same time it hadn't been something she'd thought about too hard yet.

"I don't know," she replied finally. "I'll admit, at first I was just hoping for a fling but after this letter...I don't know, maybe. He does sound like exactly the kind of guy I usually go for. So I think it has a lot of potential."

"That's good," he said a little too quickly. "I'm glad it's working out for you."

"He didn't give me his phone number, though," she said. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind giving him mine?"

"Oh. Of course."

"Thank you," she said. "You've been such a good friend for all of this, I can't thank you enough. Will you let me know if there's anything I can ever help you with?"

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "It's been my pleasure."

"Are you _crazy_?" Chris exclaimed, turning around and walking a few steps back towards the fire department before turning back around. "I can't go out with her! I couldn't even write her a letter!"

Cyril pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. This was a disaster and he never should have let himself get involved in any of it.

"She already likes you," Cyril said. "All you have to do at this point is show up and not creep her out."

"Yeah, right," Chris replied, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of that fact. "She's just a person. Just a normal, regular person. Why should I be so worried about this? Just because there's an astigmatism about being bad at talking to girls doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me."

Cyril did a double take before he realized that Chris was absolutely not kidding.

"I think you meant a _stigma_ ," he said as kindly as he could. "An _astigmatism_ is what makes you need really heavy prescription glasses."

Chris groaned and leaned heavily on a wall.

"Do you think she'd know that?"

"Well, she has a master's degree so...probably."

"I can't do this," Chris said. "I'm just going to screw it up."

Cyril wanted to reassure the other man, but he honestly couldn't. All Chris had to do was open his mouth and Belle would know he hadn't written the letter.

"We're going to have to think of something," Cyril replied. "I don't care if I have to fake your death, I'm _not_ going to tell her I wrote that letter."

Chris couldn't stop sweating and he hadn't even seen Belle French yet. He was pretty sure that this was all a terrible idea, but standing outside the library waiting for her to meet him for a walking date was probably a little too late to back out.

"Stop fidgeting," he heard from the tiny Bluetooth earpiece he was wearing. He and Cyril had come up with the idea of the other man feeding him lines during the date, but it had seemed like a much better one when he wasn't standing there waiting for her to show up. "You look nervous."

"I _am_ nervous," Chris replied, wiping his sweaty hands on the front of his shirt. "I'm sorry I just feel so stupid doing this."

"It's too late," Cyril replied in his ear. "She's on her way."

Chris looked up to see the petite brunette he'd seen that day at the bar walking across the street from the library. He could see the flash of Cyril's binoculars from the window of the pawn shop, and he tried to focus more on the pretty girl than on how much all this felt like a spy movie. A really bad spy movie. She was all the way to his side of the street before he realized that this was real life, and he was going to have to make conversation with her.

He felt his stomach clench as she approached him and smiled and said his name. He had a brief moment of terror where he debated just running away but it was probably too late for that.

"Hi Chris," she said as soon as she was within arm's reach. "I'm Belle, but I guess you knew that."

She had a really pretty accent. How hadn't he known she would have an accent? Had Cyril told him about that part?

" _Say hello,_ " Chris heard Cyril's voice in the earpiece.

"Hello," Chris repeated.

" _Shake her hand and kiss her on the cheek._ "

He offered his hand and when Belle took it he only faltered a little bit before leaning forward and gave her a little peck on the cheek. It was weirdly easy to do when he had Cyril whispering in his ear. He didn't have to actually think about anything, he just had to do what he was told and he was really good at that.

Belle had a huge smile on her face when he pulled back and Chris was so damn relieved he couldn't help but to smile back. He could do this. They might actually be able to pull this off.

" _Tell her that she looks lovely,_ " Cyril said. " _She takes your breath away._ "

"You look lovely," Chris said. "Breathtaking."

"You're so sweet," Belle replied, but she was blushing and he was pretty sure that was a good thing.

" _You're doing great,_ " Cyril said. " _Now, offer her your arm and start walking north._ "

Cyril hadn't been sure if they'd be able to get away with this, but Chris and Belle were already on their way back towards the library and so far it had all gone near perfectly. Chris had taken direction perfectly and Belle seemed charmed, and Cyril should probably charge for this service once the two of them were married and had beautiful, stupid children.

He was watching the pair of them through binoculars as they walked. Belle was laughing and she was so beautiful that Cyril got a little lost in thought. There was some static on the line and Cyril could see Chris looking around like he heard something. Cyril had a sinking feeling that this was the end of their good luck.

"Chris, touch your hair if you can hear me," Cyril said, and Chris reached up but instead of putting his hand in his hair he was fiddling with his ear. God dammit, the earpiece was dead.

Chris looked like he was on the verge of panic and Cyril felt the need to do something, but there was nothing he could do. This was a trainwreck and he was powerless to stop it. Chris said something, and Belle's face went from pleased to confused to irate. Cyril flinched as she turned and slapped Chris before storming off towards her apartment, leaving Chris confused in her wake.

Cyril had to wait until she had disappeared into the building before he left the pawn shop and hurried over to meet the fire chief where he still stood with his hand on his face.

"What did you _do_?" Cyril asked. It had all been going so well, how could Chris have messed it up so fast?

"I don't know," Chris whined. "I don't know...she was talking about this book she was reading and I wanted to compliment her and I said that she was really hot for being so smart…"

Cyril rolled his eyes and smacked Chris on the back of the head himself.

"Just a helpful tip," he said. "Never try to compliment a woman by saying she's _anything_ for 'being so smart' because it will _never_ end well."

"So what do we do?" Chris asked. "She's so mad!"

They should just let it go and pretend like none of this had ever happened. It had been a ridiculous idea, it was doomed to fail, and unless he planned to live in their closet and feed him lines through Morse code there was no end game here. And yet, he found himself pulling Chris towards the alley behind Belle's building. He counted the fire escapes from the corner to figure out where her apartment was and searched the ground frantically for a projectile of some sort.

"What are we doing?" Chris asked as Cyril picked up a loose piece of concrete and tossed it up towards her window.

"We're getting her attention," Cyril replied and Chris instantly grabbed a piece of gravel and threw it himself.

Cyril was about to throw another stone when suddenly Belle's window opened and her head poked out. Cyril ducked under the fire escape and pressed his back to the wall. She could probably see him if she looked straight down and watched, but it was late evening and the orientation of the alley put the entire side of the building in shadow.

"What do you want?" Belle called down angrily and Chris' eyes went wide as he looked over to Cyril.

"You just want to talk," Cyril whispered.

"I just want to talk!" Chris called up to Belle.

"Oh, you want to _talk_?" Belle replied sarcastically. "Did you want to tell me I have a nice ass again or would you rather talk about my 'awesome rack.'"

Chris looked flustered and glanced at Cyril. It was taking all of Cyril's strength not to throttle Chris for not telling him the whole story of why she was so angry, but that wouldn't solve this problem.

"You're sorry," Cyril said. "You were scared."

"I'm sorry, Belle!" Chris called up. "I was just scared!"

"Scared of what?"

"Scared of her," Cyril said. "Of her rejection."

"I was scared of your erection!"

"My _what_?" Belle shrieked.

Cyril reached out and grabbed Chris' jacket and yanked him into the shadows.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered.

"I don't know, I was just saying what you said!"

"Why would I say _erection_?"

"Just go away, Chris," Belle called down and Cyril made a decision. He didn't have time to come up with anything else. He shoved Chris back into view.

"Just react to what I say," Cyril whispered to him before he looked up to where Belle was and tried his best to mimic Chris' accent as he called up to her. "Wait, please don't go!"

"Why shouldn't I?" she replied. "I don't owe you anything."

"You don't," he said. "You owe me nothing, and if you close that window and go back inside I'll never bother you again. All I want is a chance to apologize."

She didn't say anything, but she also didn't close the window and that was a damn good sign.

"I'll never forgive myself for it," Cyril continued. "I panicked."

"Why?" she asked, and she didn't sound as angry anymore. "We were having such a good time."

"That's why," Cyril said. "Because everything about you is so amazing and I was just terrified that you were going to see through me. I was so stupid, and I'm sorry."

"Your voice sounds different," Belle said after a brief silence.

"That's because these words are spoken from my heart," he said. "The air isn't from my lungs, it's my soul speaking straight to you, Belle." There was a soft sound from the window that could have been a sigh, and he knew she was listening to him and he could say the things he'd always wanted. "Beautiful Belle," he continued. "Even the name doesn't do you justice. You're a melody, a song caught in my head all through the day. You're the music that sets the beat of my heart, it's every beat whispering _Belle, Belle, Belle, Belle…_ "

"You barely know me," she said, but it was barely a protest. She was charmed by what he was saying, and he wanted to keep speaking because this was all he'd ever have with her. She didn't want him, she was kind and would be his friend but he couldn't delude himself into thinking she'd love him. She wanted Chris Gaston, tall and handsome and broad chested. Cyril knew he was ugly, the skin that was visible was scaled and thickened and the parts of him that his suit covered were even worse. A woman who would want Chris would never want Cyril, but that didn't stop him from wanting in spite of himself. If this was all he could ever have with Belle, then this would be what he would content himself with. He would bare his heart to her and let her be happy to know how much she was wanted.

"I want to know you," Cyril said. "I want to know your dreams and your mind, what makes you laugh and what makes you cry. I want to learn you inside and out. Let me have a chance and I'll create maps of your every mood and write encyclopedias on your mind."

"What kind of chance?" she asked, and for once Cyril was at a loss for words, he was too absorbed in his own fantasy of the situation. Chris, however, was not.

"Let me come up," Chris called out, breaking the spell.

"Shut up, Chris," Cyril exclaimed.

"What?" Belle replied, the edge back in her voice.

"Nothing," Cyril called back, hoping she hadn't recognized his voice from his outburst. "I was just yelling at myself for being too forward and offending you."

"I'm not offended," Belle replied timidly. "What did you mean by that?"

"Come on, Cyril," Chris whispered to Cyril. "She wants us. You heard her."

"She wants an illusion," Cyril shot back, but then who was he to judge?

"She wants a fantasy," Chris replied. "Someone who looks like me and talks like you. Come on, I can handle this part if you can get me in the door."

He shouldn't do this, but at the same time he couldn't give her anything else besides this fantasy. He could give her a Chris Gaston who was charming and eloquent and who wanted her more than anything else in the whole world.

"I want to see you, Belle," Cyril said at last. "You can tell me to leave, and I'll go. You'll never have to see me again, but know that I'll never forget you. I'll hold you in my heart until the stars fall out of the sky, and the sun consumes the Earth and the only thing of humanity that still remains is the spark of _you_ that sustains me. Because you do sustain me, Belle. You're a light in an ocean of darkness, Belle, and I'll never stop wanting you."

Belle didn't speak right away, but Cyril could see a glimpse of her still leaning out of the window over his head and her lips were parted softly. Even backlit as she was, he thought he saw a flush on her cheeks.

"Come up," she said, pulling away from the window.

Cyril almost reached for the ladder of the fire escape, but Chris' hand clapped on his shoulder and held him back.

"You did it," Chris said. "Thank you so much!"

Cyril nodded as he watched Chris climb the ladder to the landing and climb through the window into Belle's apartment.

"I did it," Cyril said to himself, taking a deep breath as his heart settled back into a normal rhythm and his head cleared. "Oh, shit. What did I _do_?"

He looked up to the window again like he had any desire at all to see them doing whatever they were doing up there. He had a ridiculous crush on Belle French, but getting her laid was definitely _not_ the way to get over it. The more he was thinking about her and stupid giant Chris having sex the worse he felt. She was so small and he was so large. What the hell had he been _thinking_ letting Chris talk him into this? What had he been thinking letting Belle encourage him to get involved?

Cyril was starting to panic trying to think of what to do to stop what was going on upstairs and, unfortunately, only one idea came to him.

He dug out his keyring and found the masterkey for the building, letting himself in through the back door and into the hallway. There wasn't anyone in the entrance, thankfully, and it only took him a few moments to pull the fire alarm and escape back out through the back. The pawn shop was close enough that he was back inside in time to watch people beginning to spill out of the neighboring building. Chris and Belle were among them, and Cyril couldn't bring himself to watch to see what happened after that. It was much easier to live with himself if he could pretend like nothing else was going to happen.


	5. Chapter 5

Cyril was beginning to regret some of his choices. Chief among them was that, while Chris and Belle apparently hadn't had sex, he'd apparently shown her a really good time after the fire escape incident. This was exacerbated by the fact that he'd downloaded an app that let him text her himself from a fake number rather than entrust Chris with any sort of written communication, so she'd texted early in the morning to say good morning and compliment him. It was not a great way to spend the morning, and yet he was still texting her from the diner at lunchtime.

"What could _possibly_ be so interesting, Gold?" Regina Mills asked from her seat at one of the nearby tables. "You've been staring at your phone for half an hour now."

"Nothing," he replied, locking his phone quickly and shoving it in his pocket. "Just some...business."

"Well that's not shifty _at all_ ," Regina said, obviously having not believed a word of what he said. "Be sure to tell _business_ I say hello."

"Don't you have anything better to do than interrogate me?" he asked. "Where's your family?"

"I'm meeting Emma here for lunch," Regina replied smugly. "And Henry is in school. Because he's ten, and that's where children go during the daytime."

Cyril was trying to decide on a retort when Emma walked in and joined her wife at the table. He turned back to his phone and started reading through Belle's texts to 'Gaston' because he was a damn masochist when he suddenly felt fingertips on the back of his neck and recoiled so strongly he almost threw his phone.

"Surprise," Belle said from behind him with a little giggle. He spun to face her as fast as he could, but she was already sitting on the stool next to his with a huge smile on her face and all he could do was stare.

Cyril _knew_ Regina was shooting him a smug look and he was sure anybody watching could tell he had a crush on the librarian, but he couldn't actually _do_ anything to stop looking at her like an idiot.

"Did I scare you?" Belle asked, still with that smug little smirk on her face.

"You startled me," he replied, although it wasn't entirely true. He was more shocked than anything, nobody ever touched him, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt something as intimate as fingers on the back of his neck. "You'll need to get a lot more threatening before you could possibly scare me."

"I'll just have to try harder then," she replied cheekily. "How have you been? I haven't spoken to you in days."

She'd actually been texting him all morning, but he was the only one who knew that.

"As good as can be expected," he said. "Nothing particularly exciting has been going on, but in a town this small that can be a very good thing."

"That's true," she said. "But still, I'd like to think you had something nice going on in your life."

"Oh?"

"I like my friends to be happy."

It was nice to think about being friends with her, although it had all gotten so damn complicated lately. He wished he'd said no to Chris Gaston when he'd asked for so much help seducing her because being involved was torture, but he still couldn't bring himself to extricate himself from the situation. He was a complete jackass, but he was obviously getting something out of this and he didn't want to think about what it was. The world was full of fools, and he was chief among them.

Belle suddenly perked up and it took Cyril a moment to register that Chris had come into the restaurant and was approaching them. He hadn't had time to tell Chris about his text messages yet (they'd been planning to meet up after work) so this was not precisely good news.

"Hey," Belle said in greeting as the other man approached. "What are you doing here?"

"I had some time before work and some stuff came up I needed to tell you," he said, glancing at Cyril who could feel his blood pressure rising with every second this conversation went on. "Can we talk privately?"

"Yeah, sure," Belle replied, getting off her stool. "I'll be right back, Cyril."

He watched closely as they left the building and stood outside one of the windows talking. Chris couldn't be telling her the truth, could he? Of all the boneheaded ideas, that one could ruin everything. Belle didn't look upset, though. She seemed disappointed, but she hugged Chris and gave him a lingering kiss before returning to her seat at the counter

"What was that all about?" he asked and hoped he'd kept the nervousness out of his voice.

"Oh, Chris has to go back to his old town for a few days to clean out his storage unit. Apparently he left some stuff behind and now that he's settled he wants it."

Thank goodness, Cyril's secret was still safe. And he had a few days reprieve from witnessing anymore public displays of affection. Things were actually starting to look up.

Belle didn't mind Chris being gone so much, it turned out. She missed him, but Ruby had accepted an invitation back to The Rabbit Hole and Belle really enjoyed the company of the other woman. They were already a couple shots into the evening when she realized Cyril was there. He was looking uncomfortable, but she was just so excited to see her friend that she pulled her knees up onto the stool and waved him over to where they were sitting.

He saw her and started to make his way over, and she only tottered a little bit as she got down off her stool and sat again. She was fine, definitely not drunk, and very happy to see him.

"Hey!" she said as soon as he was within earshot. "I didn't think you'd be here tonight!"

"I hadn't planned on it," he replied. "But apparently something went wrong with the air conditioning in the back office and I had to look at it."

"Isn't it kinda late for that?" Ruby asked him.

"I had a full day of other work," he said. "And I couldn't precisely check first thing in the morning."

"Get a drink with us!" Belle said, trying to flag down the bartender.

"Oh, I don't know if I should," he said, looking between Belle and Ruby. "You two seem like you've got a good handle on the evening."

"No, stay!" Belle said, fully aware that she was whining a little bit. She just really wanted to hang out with him. "It'll be so much fun!"

"Yeah, you should stay," Ruby added. "You don't have plans, right?"

"I didn't," he admitted. "I suppose I can stay for a few drinks."

Belle was feeling floaty and happy, and she was _so_ thrilled that he was sticking around for a little while.

Belle was having _such_ a good time with Cyril. Ruby ended up leaving an hour or so after he joined them because she had work the next day, but to be honest Belle had barely missed her presence. He was just so funny and easy to talk to! Belle had lost track completely of how much she'd had to drink, and she was sure it was probably way more than she should have had, but she was just enjoying the night. It had been too long since she'd done something like this.

"How have you never seen _My Fair Lady_?" he asked as he sipped on his drink. "It's a classic!"

"I don't know, neither of my parents were ever big on musicals. I've read _The Pygmalion_ though."

"Audrey Hepburn is beautiful in it," he said. "And, of course, you can't beat Rex Harrison either. I can lend you my copy if you'd like."

"We can watch it together," she said. "I do like musicals, I just haven't gotten around to it, you know?"

Belle smiled and took a deep breath and suddenly she felt really tired and it was so easy to lean over and put her head on his shoulder.

"The alcohol just hit me," she said. "I don't like this."

"You'll be okay," he said and she nodded because that was all she could manage at that moment.

Her eyes felt heavy, and she didn't want to fight against it so she just closed her eyes and breathed. There was a loud banging and she jolted back upright to see the bartender standing there.

"No sleeping," he said. "Keep your eyes open."

Belle nodded, but she was leaning against Cyril's shoulder again soon. It was just so much more comfortable than being upright.

"I think I'm drunk," she murmured. "I dunno if I can stay."

"Yeah, I think you're probably done," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and guiding her to her feet before standing up as well.

"What are we doing?"

"I'm walking you home," he said. "I don't know if I trust you not to spend the night in a dumpster if I let you do it by yourself."

"You're so nice," she replied as he led her out the door. It was so nice to spend time together with her friend.

Cyril knew he was drunk, but Belle was far drunker. She was swaying and stumbling as they walked down the street towards her apartment. Each stumble elicited a giggle, and each giggle had her looking at him with a huge smile on her face. It felt warm and comfortable, and he liked it. She was looking at him and he was looking at her, and then suddenly she pitched forward. He reached out as fast as he could and grabbed her arm, yanking her back into him as she fell.

She slammed against his chest and he had to take a step back to counterbalance the weight of her, but as soon as she was steady on her feet again she started laughing and hugged him.

"You're so nice," she said as she pulled away. "You're so nice to me."

He barely had time to miss the sensation of her so close when she had her arm through his and was practically pulling him down the street with her.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said after a little while.

"Sure," he replied. "What's up?"

"What's wrong with your skin?"

Even with his buzz, the question still felt a little bit like getting slapped. He never forgot what he looked like, but sometimes it wasn't on his mind and having it brought to mind with the reminder that _of course_ she'd noticed that he looked different was just a subtle twist of the knife. Still, it wasn't something horrible and shameful and it wasn't something he could ever hide.

"It's called lamellar ichthyosis," he said. "Basically, my body makes more skin cells than I shed so it builds up. It's not contagious, it just requires some special attention."

"Oh, is that why you always wear long sleeves?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "It cuts down on the worst of the questions and stares."

"I'm sorry if I made you self-conscious," she said, leaning into him. "I was just curious."

"It's fine," he replied. "I know it's ugly."

"It's not ugly," she said, almost sounding offended on his behalf. "It's just different. Some people like different – I like different."

 _She liked different_. He wasn't really sure what to think that meant, but it soothed the worst of his hurts to hear it.

"I wonder why I haven't heard from Chris tonight," she continued, taking out her phone and looking at it. "Usually he texts me by now."

Except Chris' texts came from Cyril and of course she didn't know that. He hadn't sent her anything all evening because he'd been so caught up in spending time with her. It was all so screwed up now.

"How are things going with him?" Cyril asked in an attempt to distract her.

" _So_ good," she replied. "He's been sending me these messages since he's been gone and they're so beautiful. He says he misses me every morning when the sun comes up and at night when it goes down. He asks me what I'm thinking and feeling and seems really interested in what I tell him. I think I'm falling in love with him."

Cyril felt shaken to his core by her confession. Belle was falling in love with Chris – or at least with the imaginary version of him that they'd constructed for her. What was he even going to do with that knowledge, and how were they going to work their way through it?

"You're such a good friend," Belle mumbled and nuzzled into his shoulder sleepily. "Don't tell him I told you anything, okay? I don't want to mess this up."

"Yeah, of course," he said. "I won't say anything at all."


	6. Chapter 6

Cyril regretted every choice he'd made in his life when he woke up the next morning. He hadn't felt safe driving himself home and hadn't felt like walking there, so crashing at the pawn shop had seemed like a good idea. He really should have called a cab, because when he woke his skin felt awful. He was itchy and he could feel cracks forming in his knees and elbows as he moved. He was going to have to take the day off from the shop and stay at home and he wasn't really looking forward to standing up, much less walking.

He let himself out of the shop and took his phone out. He needed to come up with some kind of excuse for Belle about why Chris hadn't written her the night before and he had the entire walk to his car to figure it out. He ended up telling her Chris had gone out with friends from his old fire station, and she seemmed to buy it. Although Cyril also seriously doubted that she felt well enough to think too hard about anything he had to say given how drunk she'd been when he left her at her apartment. He still needed to tell Chris what had happened, but he wasn't due back for a few days so that would hold until Cyril could get his skin back to what passed for normal.

A long bath followed by a generous helping of his cream went a long way towards making Cyril more comfortable, but there was still a tightness that he knew from experience would probably last the rest of the day and the stinging from the little tears in his skin would last a day or so longer. He knew better than to skip his nightly shower routine, but joining Belle had been too tempting an offer and it had been so long since he'd done anything for no reason other than because he had wanted to. He was suffering now, but it had been worth it and if he had it to do all over again he probably would, regardless of his crush on her. Sometimes, it was worth it to do something he shouldn't even if it did mean a little bit of discomfort later.

He put on a sweatshirt and a pair of lounge pants instead of his usual clothes and decided to spend the day puttering around the house and catching up on housework. The shop could keep, and he was in no shape to see anyone. He actually did a fairly good job of _not_ thinking about Belle while he cleaned the sink and organized the pantry. When he went outside to water the plants, though, the sky was stupidly blue and it just made him think of her eyes. Going inside didn't help, because the smell of leather and books in his study reminded him of the library smell that always clung to her. He hoped Chris could appreciate those things once this had all played out. Oh, damn, he still had to text Chris. Maybe when all this was over he'd take a vacation someplace nice. Warm weather was supposed to be good for his skin.

She texted him a little after lunch. He'd missed their unofficial lunch date, although he'd thought about it relentlessly as the time approached. He should have let her know, but a part of him had wanted to see if she cared as much about it as she did.

 _Are you okay?_ she sent.

 _Yeah, just a little dehydrated after last night. Stayed home all day._

 _Missed you at lunch, but I get it. I wasn't exactly on time for work today._

He smiled at that message, he could only imagine how sick she must have been that morning.

 _Wish I could have taken care of you,_ he typed before deleting it quickly. That was way too intimate for their actual relationship and she didn't need to hear it.

 _I probably should have left you some aspirin,_ he said instead. _Didn't want to go digging through your bathroom, though_.

 _I appreciate the sentiment. Where'd you end up sleeping?_

 _I stayed in the shop. There's a bed in the back._

 _Oh_ she replied, and he wasn't at all sure how to take that until she sent a second text. _Next time you can crash here, if you want. The sofa pulls out._

He was completely sunk and there was absolutely no way to get out of it.

 _Just FYI, you've been texting Belle while you're gone. And she says she's falling in love with you. Good luck._

Chris had been looking forward to going home before he got that message. He should probably be happy that a beautiful girl was so into him, but the more he thought about it the more obvious it was that she wasn't actually into _him_. The one time he'd been alone with her without a script he'd gotten slapped. If Belle liked anyone, she liked Cyril. Chris was almost completely meaningless to all of this. She'd have fallen in love with anonymous letters just as easily as she had him.

He had no idea what to do, and getting back to Storybrooke didn't help a whole lot. It just made making a decision more urgent. He liked Belle fine, but the longer this went on the more he realized that it was all a lie. The plan had been terrible and they hadn't really thought through any of it all the way, and now here they were.

Belle didn't usually go to the diner until lunchtime, and Chris needed some time to think before he saw her again so he felt safe enough going for breakfast. He was stuck in his thoughts as he poked at his eggs, and didn't notice he'd sat through the rush until the waitress came over to check on him.

"You okay?" she asked, refilling his coffee and giving him a sympathetic smile. "Want me to reheat your plate?"

"Oh. It's fine," he replied, pushing the plate away. He hadn't even noticed that it was cold. "I'm not really hungry."

"Something on your mind?"

"Nothing worth talking about," he said. "You're Belle's friend, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Ruby," she said, offering her hand for him to shake. "And you're Chris."

He couldn't help smiling as he took her hand. He remembered her from the first time he'd seen Belle, now that he thought about it. She'd been the tall girl, and the one who initially caught his eye, but he'd never really spoken to her before.

"It's nice to meet you," he said. "Do I want to know how you know me?"

"I've read your letters," she said and he couldn't help but feel really disappointed in that. Just one more fan of Cyril's work.

"What did you think?" he asked hesitantly,

"They were good," she said. "Kind of frilly for my taste, but really good for Belle."

"Yeah? You think they're frilly?"

"It's just personal preference," she said. "I mean, it's nice. I just like a guy to actually say what he means, you know?"

"You're not the poetic type?"

"I have been in the past, and it's nice sometimes. I'm just old enough now that I want to know what a guy is thinking without having to guess or analyze anything. I like knowing where I stand."

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It hadn't really occurred to him how much he hated pretending to be something he wasn't until he had a woman tell him she liked the kind of guy he actually was. He didn't know what to say, but then another customer came in and she excused herself to go help them.

Belle didn't like him, and he was starting to realize he didn't like her that much either. Hell, he didn't really like himself that much when he was pretending to be what she wanted from him. He'd made a huge mistake.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked when she came back to put in the new order.

"Yeah," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have a pen and paper I could borrow, would you?"

Cyril was staring at his ledgers and pretending to work on them when his phone rang. It was Belle, and it took him a split second of panic to make sure it wasn't the fake phone number he'd been texting her from as Chris before he could answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Cyril?" she said. "Can you come over?"

She sounded upset, and he thought she might have been crying which instantly had him on edge.

"Of course," he replied as he shut his ledger and fished around for his keys to start locking up. "Is everything okay?"

"Just get here, it's important."

She hung up before he could even say goodbye, and that just unnerved him even more. It was only a short walk from his shop to Belle's apartment, but it felt like forever until he was knocking on her door. The door swung open and he saw her standing there with red-rimmed eyes and a too-big t-shirt and how could she _still_ be so breathtaking even like that?

"Come in," she said and it was more of a demand than a request but still he followed her like a puppy until she stopped next to her table before she spoke again. "Write something."

He looked at the table and saw a legal pad and a pen, and he was about to ask her what she wanted when he noticed the love letter he'd written to her from Chris sitting nearby on top of a stack of other papers. Oh, damn.

"Belle, what's going on?" he asked. There was no way in hell he was going to sit down and actually write anything, but he could only stall for so long.

"Chris dumped me," she said, picking up a paper from underneath the letter he'd written her and holding it out to him. "I had a letter shoved under my door when I got home from work."

Cyril took the letter she'd proffered and scanned it. It was direct and simple, just like Chris, to be honest.

 _Belle, I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm not the man you think I am or want, and I can't keep pretending I am. You deserve better. Please let me know if their is anything I can do. Chris. PS don't be mad at Cyril, it wasn't his idea._

"Well, this is…" He was trying to think of a way to spin it that wouldn't look suspicious, but he was stuck. Aside from the fact that it actually had been at least partially his idea, the handwriting of this new note bore no resemblance at all to his own.

"So after I got that note, I pulled out my lease," Belle continued, grabbing the document from the stack and laying it down next to the original letter Cyril had written for her. It was mostly typed, but there were fields where he had written in her address and personal information and a yellow sticky note attached explaining how to get into the building and directions to her door since she didn't see the place before moving in. "Write something, Cyril."

He was caught, and they both knew it.

"Belle, I can explain."

"Oh my God," she said before he could continue. "How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends!"

"We were!" He replied quickly. "We _are_."

"Friends don't trick friends into sleeping with other people!" she exclaimed, grabbing the love letter from where it sat, crumpling it up and throwing it at him. It bounced uselessly off his chest and hit the floor between them. "What were you thinking?"

"I just wanted you to be happy!"

"Why the hell would you think I'd be happy about being lied to?" She was full on yelling now. "You two manipulated me! You tricked me into...oh my God I was falling in love with him. Why would you _do_ that?"

"I thought that's what you wanted!" he blurted out and instantly regretted it. He had thought she was angry before, but now she was livid. He briefly considered feigning a heart attack before deciding against it, since she'd probably just be angrier once she found out that he wasn't going to die.

"That's what you _thought I wanted?_ " she said in a deadly calm voice. "What, precisely, is it that I wanted?"

"I don't know," he replied.

"No, really. Tell me. What _exactly_ did I want?"

"We were trying to give you your fantasy."

"My fantasy," she said incredulously. "My _fantasy_ is getting lied to by two people I trusted? Being made a fool of?"

"Belle…"

"No, really! I want to know. What fantasy of mine were you two getting at because I'm coming up blank."

"You had a handsome man who talks like one of the heroes in your books. You _wanted_ to believe it was all true."

"How dare you?" she replied indignantly. "Don't you dare turn this around on me, I believed in it because you did such a good job at spinning the illusion."

"Of course, it's all _my_ fault and not your precious Chris."

"Chris isn't here!" she shouted. "And he never could have seduced me without you."

"Well then maybe you should reevaluate your standards, since it took the two of us to be good enough for you!"

She looked stunned, and he was honestly surprised he'd said it. He couldn't deny there was a small amount of jealousy there, but the idea of letting her know it was there made him want to run off to South America and start a new life somewhere in Peru. Cyril didn't know what to do anymore, so he just watched Belle as she watched him.

"Get out," she finally hissed. His heart sank into his stomach at her words, but there was nothing he could do about it anymore. He was completely numb as he walked through the door and out of her life forever.


	7. Chapter 7

Belle could not believe what was going on. Her entire world felt like it had shifted, and for the first time since she'd finished unpacking her stuff she was starting to think maybe she never should have moved here. There had been a place in Iowa that had been hiring, she'd just thought Maine seemed nicer. But Iowa probably didn't have crazy men who trick you into going out with other crazy men. Iowa just had corn, lots of fucking corn. And corn was sounding really good right about now, because men were just the worst.

She didn't even know what to do. There were no guidebooks for this situation, and she'd never even heard of something similar happening. The fact that not one but _two_ men who she had really liked thought this was a good idea probably said a lot about her taste in men, but how the hell had they _both_ thought this made sense?

There were still a few boxes of clothes to sort through and she had so much nervous energy she ended up in her room angrily unpacking winter clothing while she fumed. She'd been sad earlier when Chris had broken up with her, but the realization that he hadn't written the letter had just gotten her angry. When she'd realized the only person who possibly could have helped was Cyril – and then that Cyril's handwriting matched the letter – it had been like the floor dropped out from underneath her. She'd thought he was her friend, and he'd betrayed her.

That was the part that hurt the most, actually. It wasn't even that she'd fallen for an illusion, it was that her friend had been the one who set her up. She'd _trusted_ him. She'd trusted, and she'd loved, and it had all been faked. It had been some weird game, and she had lost. She'd lost _everything_ she thought she'd gained in this new town. It was like a void had opened up inside of her chest at that realization, and she collapsed onto her bed and tried not to cry again.

Could she really lose something she'd never had, though? It felt like it, but she was grieving a man who wasn't real. But then again, that wasn't entirely true. The parts of him that she'd liked had to come from somewhere, and it had come from Cyril. It was probably a stupid thing to think because Cyril had turned out to be an asshole. But she had liked him. There was something seriously wrong with that, but there was nothing for it. She was just going to have to keep going until it stopped sucking.

Belle had never been happier to work a job where nobody expected her to do much talking as she was the next day. The whole situation with Cyril and Chris was never far from her mind, but to be honest it was Cyril who occupied most of her thoughts. There was one thought that kept playing over and over until she was sure she'd go insane before lunch, and when an opportunity to close a little early came she took it. She couldn't think too hard about the decision to go across the street to the pawn shop because if she did she probably wouldn't have the guts to go through with it. She just let herself in and hoped that she knew what she was doing before she made a complete fool of herself.

Cyril had been in the back room laying down and thinking about what a jackass he was when the bell on the door rang out and he groaned in response. He had no idea who had come in, but whoever it was he was going to make sure that they left before too long.

Belle was standing by the door and flipping the sign to closed when he emerged, and he froze. She was here and he didn't know what to do or say anymore. For the first time in his life, he was completely speechless. He hadn't thought she'd ever want to talk to him again.

"I hope you don't mind," she said when she turned back to face him. "But I don't think I want to have this conversation in front of anybody else."

"Of course," he replied. "What…" There were a million ways to continue that thought – what did she need? What did she want? – but he didn't want to open any of those cans of worms. "What can I do for you?"

"Was it all a lie?" she asked, suddenly within arm's reach of him. "All the letters, the texts...and it was you that night on the fire escape, wasn't it?" He nodded, and she continued. "Were they _all_ lies?"

It took him a few moments to figure out what she was asking him. She wanted to know if he'd written the letters for Chris or for himself – wanted to know if either of them had actually loved her.

"No, they weren't lies," he said, unable to look at her as he spoke. "None of them were lies."

He risked a glance at her and she was biting her lip and staring intently at the counter and he had no idea what to do anymore. The two of them just stood there looking at anything besides each other and he prayed this conversation would end at some point. He wasn't sure he could take being raked across the coals again.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

"You liked Chris."

"Okay, fair enough. But did you really think I was so shallow that I'd have kept dating him without your help? Or that I wouldn't have said yes if you'd just asked me as yourself?"

 _That_ was a question Cyril hadn't expected, and he finally turned to face her.

"Would you have?" he asked, suddenly feeling naked and vulnerable before her. He needed her to answer, because he needed to know how badly he had screwed this all up and if there was any hope at all of making it better.

"Of course. The first time we met and you bandaged my foot I halfway thought you were going to, but then you didn't and I figured I'd misinterpreted. But if you'd asked me out I'd have said yes."

He was pretty sure he was about to faint. It hadn't even occurred to him to think about asking her out, but she'd have been interested if he had. He was the biggest idiot in the world.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I was a fool."

"Yeah, you were," she replied. She was looking at him curiously and he was racking his brain trying to decide what else to say when suddenly she was up on her tiptoes and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He was too startled to even reciprocate, and the smug smile on her face after she'd done it rendered him completely incapable of coherent thought.

"I'm sorry I got you involved with Chris to start with," she said. "But I forgive you for the rest of it."

He couldn't stand it anymore – he couldn't go one more moment without without having properly kissed her. He only hesitated long enough to decide where he should put his hands before leaning down to kiss her again, putting his hands on her shoulders just to make sure she was really there. This time her hand immediately went to the back of his neck to hold him in place and the other one rested on his chest just over his heart. He couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed anyone like that, and he didn't ever want to stop. She was so soft and all he wanted was to never, ever let her go.

She wasn't shy, and her tongue darted between his lips before he'd had a chance to properly taste her. He pulled her closer and held her tightly as he savored every second of having her here . Eventually, though, she pulled away and smiled at him with her kiss-bruised lips and it took all is self-control not to go back for more.

"Were you going to ask me out?" she said sweetly and he was annoyed at himself for forgetting.

"Will you go to dinner with me?" he replied instantly.

She hmmed and looked at him for a long time like she was trying to make a decision before the smile was back on her face.

"I'd like that," she said at last. "Just the two of us, though. No third parties."

"Anything you like," he replied happily. "Anything at all."

She leaned up and kissed him again, and this time he was sure he wasn't going to stop.

 _Six months later…_

Love was funny sometimes. If you'd told Belle before she moved to Storybrooke that she was going to fall in love with a man who drove her absolutely crazy in all the right (and a few of the wrong) ways, she'd have been intrigued. If you'd told her how she ended up with him, though, she never would have believed it. Cyril was absolutely madding, but she loved him. And perhaps more importantly, she liked herself more when she was with him. They made each other into better people.

It had been kind of weird when Ruby had come to her a month after the Chris debacle and said Chris had asked the other woman out. Belle had been completely surprised when Ruby then asked if she'd be okay to say yes. To be honest, Belle didn't even consider that she'd really ever dated Chris at all anymore. Now that she knew Cyril so well, she'd realized how much of that relationship had been him instead. Besides, Ruby seemed so happy with the fire chief. How could Belle begrudge her friend that kind of joy?

Cyril was getting better at letting down his walls around her, although it had been a bit of a production to get him naked the first time. But she loved him as he was, insecurities, scales, and all. Besides, he'd gotten very used to having company in at least one of his daily showers and she had gotten used to how much nicer the showerhead at his place was than the one at hers. He hadn't quite asked her to move in yet, but she was pretty sure he was going to and she would say yes when he did. It was everything she'd ever wanted, and she was so glad to have it.


End file.
